Mischief Managed
by LilyIsAwesomerThanYou
Summary: Harry decides he is going to bend the Hogwarts rules a little. For the "Things I'm Not Allowed to Do at Hogwarts" Challenge. :P
1. Chapter 1

**Ah. Like I said, this is for the "Things I'm Not Allowed to Do at Hogwarts" Challenge. Enjoy!**

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Rule 401. I will not use Crookshanks as bait for "Fluffy Fishing"

Hermione stood up angrily, grabbing her cat-like creature and hugging it to her chest. It meowed quietly in protest, but the thirteen-year-old witch ignored it. "No. NO. _NO!_"

Ron jumped in. "Come on, 'Mione! It's not like anything's really going to happen! Besides, who knows that _thing_ is still even in the castle! _It better not,_" the boy added quietly.

"Ron! You can't use poor little Crookshanks! Besides, _who knows_ what will happen if he runs through the castle!"

"_Come on, 'Mione!_" It was Harry jumping in to defend Ron.

"_NO!_"

"Her-mio-nee!" She glared at him. "Alright. Alright. I'll tell you what. If you let us use Crookshanks… I'll let him chase Scabbers around the halls," Ron conceded.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "If you'll do that, then fine. We can… use Crookshanks… if you use Scabbers," Hermione agreed slowly.

Ron jumped up. "Yes! Harry she said we can use Crookshanks! We can use Crookshanks!" Ron shouted.

Harry smacked him on the back of the head and shushed him. "Are you _mental?_" he hissed.

Ron straightened up. "Tomorrow night?" The other two agreed quietly.

OoOoO

Hermione checked her Muggle wristwatch under the Invisibility Cloak.

"Why do you use that bloody thing?" Ron scoffed. "It's not like you really need it."

"Shut up," she hissed, then turned to a more attentive Harry. "It's just past curfew. All the students should be heading to bed now." She hugged Crookshanks closer to her.

A few minutes passes. The three students exchanged glances and began slowly making their way up and down the third-floor corridor, checking for students. When they were assured it was empty but for the three of them, they pulled off the Cloak.

Ron held Scabbers close, ready to let him go any second. Crookshanks was already trying to claw out of Hermione's arms to go after the sickly-looking rat.

"Best to just let them go," Harry whispered. The two students let go of their pets, Crookshanks flying out of Hermione's arms at the sudden lack of resistance. They raced down the dark corridor, the three students following as closely as they could.

"We – can't – see –them," Ron panted, his breathing ragged and his footsteps loud against the stone floor. They heard a small thump, a hiss, and a squeak.

"Did that _bloody cat_ get Scabbers?!" Ron hissed.

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "You agreed. Besides, serves him right."

There was suddenly a loud crash and three identical cries of pain as the students fell backwards onto the cold stone floor.

"Was that door _supposed_ to be locked?" Harry whispered, holding his painfully bleeding nose.

"Shouldn't be. The door to that corridor hasn't been locked since –" They all looked at each other.

"—first year," Ron finished.

"_Alohomora,_" Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at the locked door. The lock clicked as the door creaked open slowly.

When they walked in, they knew immediately it was a mistake. Ron and Hermione shrieked loudly at the creature filling the room with it's awful breath.

"_It's that bloody three-headed dog!_" Ron squeaked, grabbing Scabbers and holding the rat close as it squirmed.

"Fluffy," Harry corrected, surprisingly calm seeing as he knew exactly what that dog's bite could do to someone's leg (that someone being Professor Snape).

"_Throw that BLOODY cat at it, mate!_" Ron screeched. "_Come on! It's gonna kill us!"_

It was Hermione's turn to scream in protest. She snatched up her cat. "Run, you idiots!"

They turned and started sprinting away down the dark corridors, the Invisibility Cloak stuffed down Harry's robe and forgotten.

Professor Snape came running around the corner, surprised at the sight of the three teenagers sprinting down the corridor and screaming like banshees. "What the…"

He grabbed a handful of one of the student's robes. "Mr Potter. Would you care to inform me exactly why you and your group of _dunderheads_ are running through the castle and trying to wake the dead? Just like your father, aren't you?" At Harry's silence, he shook the third year. "_Explain!_"

"Why is that bloody dog still here, Professor?!" Harry panted, pointing at the now-closed door.

"Language, Mr Potter," Snape commented drily, casting a glance toward Harry's pointing finger. "Ah. You see, Mr Potter, what the Headmaster chooses to let into this school—_for very good reason_, I assure you—is none of the students' business. Unless, of course, you consider yourself better than the other students?"

"No, sir," Harry protested quickly.

"Now, _explain_ what exactly is going on!" the Potions Master snapped.

"We were… we decided to… I…" Snape merely raised an eyebrow at the boy's incoherency. "We tried to use Crookshanks to go 'Fluffy Fishing'." Harry's face blushed an impressive shade of red.

Snape blinked in astonishment. "What?" he asked, trying to comprehend. "You used Miss Granger's _cat_—"

"It's really more of a half-cat, half-kneazle creature, and I think there's some demonic possession in there somewhere too," Harry interjected helpfully. Snape blinked again, struggling not to laugh, before recovering his normal angry glare.

"_Do not interrupt me._" Hissed angrily. "Not even for… interesting… descriptions of your friends' familiars."

Harry nodded politely, slightly pleased that he had caught Snape off-guard.

"Now. Are you telling me that you used Miss Granger's _'half-cat, half-kneazle, partially demon-possessed creature'_ as bait for, as you so delicately put it, _'Fluffy Fishing'_?"

Harry nodded again. This was ridiculous. They hadn't expected to be caught, much less to actually find the horrid dog.

"I see. Ten points from Gryffindor for sheer stupidity. Another ten for being out after curfew. And another ten for attempting to wake the entire castle with your shrieking. Oh, and ten more for looking in places where you know you shouldn't. That sounds nice. Forty points from Gryffindor." Snape smirked at the loss of points from his rival house. "Now return to your bed," he growled.

Harry ran off, sprinting after his friends.

Snape stood watching him run, making nearly as much noise as he had before. "And five points to Gryffindor for catching the Dungeon Bat off-guard, and for articulating well-thought-out descriptions of that demonic creature," he whispered quietly, smirking.

Harry finally caught up to Ron and Hermione, who were waiting for him by the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"What happened, mate? We thought you were done for sure," Ron muttered, punching Harry in the arm.

"Snape," Harry hissed. "Forty points from Gryffindor. However," he looked at Hermione and the fussy orange cat, "I caught him off-guard with my description of that hideous thing." He poked Crookshanks, who hissed at him angrily. Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised looks before looking back to Harry.

"Are you telling me that you surprised Snape?"

Harry nodded. "Oh, also, we're no longer allowed to use Crookshanks as bait for 'Fluffy Fishing.'"

"Damn," Ron whispered. "I was really hoping that cat would get eaten."

Harry and Hermione both exchanged incredulous glances before telling the Fat Lady the password and making their way up to their dorms, listening to Ron's angry muttering.

"—had to rescue Scabbers from that bloody cat's teeth. I can't believe—"

"Go to bed, Ron."

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**Review please :) I definitely had fun writing this. More to come ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! Another chapter! In an hour! I'm impressed with myself, if I must say so myself ;P**

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Rule 157. Shouting 'How COULD you betray me like that?' whenever Snape removes house points is forbidden.

Harry sat in class, trying to breathe above the heady fumes of two dozen potions around that were undoubtedly going wrong. Hermione sat beside him, frantically stirring her light green potion, glancing down at her book and struggling to keep her hair out of her eyes as it grew progressively frizzier and frizzier. Ron sat on Harry's other side, toying with his own potion, glaring intently into his cauldron as he ladled the sticky black substance closer to his face.

"It looks like licorice but it smells like moldy biscuits. I don't understand."

Harry turned back to his own potion, which was faring better than Ron's potion and much better than Neville's, which had shriveled and burned his ladle. He stirred it absent-mindedly, waiting until he was sure Snape wasn't looking before making eye contact with Ron, who nodded.

Oh, this was going to be fun. Dares from the twins were dares of the best kind.

Harry carefully picked up the aconite, which he knew very well was not supposed to go in before the dandelion root, and dropped it in the cauldron. It would mess up the potion more than enough to be noticeable, but it wouldn't harm anyone or explode. After seeing Neville's many accidents in Potions, Harry was more than willing to research what the potion would do if it was altered in such a way.

Snape left the Slytherin side of the classroom, where he had been alternately praising Draco and losing his mind over Crabbe and Goyle. As the professor came closer to the Golden Trio's table, likely to sneer and insult, Harry began stirring counter-clockwise, the exact opposite of what the book said to do. He was actually quite enjoying this; messing up potions was surprisingly entertaining. Hermione looked over distractedly.

"Harry! What are you doing!?" she hissed, but Harry hummed and looked down at his potion happily. Then Snape arrived. That was a disaster in itself, but it was enough for Harry to work with.

"Moronic!" Snape exclaimed darkly, passing skillfully over Hermione's adequate potion and peering into Harry's cauldron. He snatched the stir rod from Harry's hand and began stirring clockwise. "Can you not read? Clockwise, not counter-clockwise, you fool! Have you ever even looked into this book?" He tapped the page that the potion was on and peered into the potion again. "And you added the aconite first?!"

Harry clenched his teeth together, fire flashing in his eyes. He was determined not to lose his temper as he had so many times before. "I must have read the instructions… incorrectly. Sir." There was _no way_ he was apologizing to Snape.

Snape sneered. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor." Half of the glass groaned, the other half hiding their smiles behind raised hands and potions books.

Harry glanced up from his potion and looked Snape right in the eye. Hate glittered in the older wizard's black eyes.

"How COULD you betray me like that?" Harry burst out.

Snape blinked in quiet astonishment. "What?"

"I said 'How COULD you betray me like that?'" Harry repeated. The Slytherins were looking on in shock, while the Gryffindors groaned in horror.

"Why, you—" Snape growled, pale hands clenched at his side, struggling not to reach out and cuff the James Potter look-alike across the side of the head. He regained his control and took a deep, steadying breath. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for blatant disrespect, _Mr Potter_. If you wish it to be more, by all means, continue."

Harry bit back his smirk. "How COULD you betray me like that, _sir?_ Is that better for respect? _Sir?_"

At this point, Snape was beyond angry. He stared at disbelief at the student. Did he really think he could walk in here like a king and disrupt the class, much less question his removal of house points? Points that were removed for good reason for once. This absolutely proved that the boy was James Potter reincarnate.

Snape leaned close to the boy's face, nearly spitting in his anger. His voice dropped. "_Mr Potter_. I understand that you believe that your father was a good man, but I assure you he was as far away from one as it is possible to be. Now, if you wish to be exactly like him, by all means continue. But as for now, I will be seeing you in detention scrubbing cauldrons until you are in so much pain you must be _carried _to the hospital wing for the next week. Have I made myself clear, Mr Potter?"

Harry looked up, trying not to show how absolutely scared he was of the man. He met the man's eyes again before saying, much quietly this time, "_How COULD you betray me like that?_" The smirk that he had been trying to hide finally made itself known.

Snape straightened up so quickly that Harry thought the older wizard's back might snap. "Sir?" he added with another smirk.

"_Out._" Neville let out a whimper from behind Harry. "GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM, YOU INSOLENT LITTLE BRAT! GET. OUT. NOW," Snape bellowed, his voice loud enough to make the cauldrons shake. The glass flasks to collect samples of the potions trembled, giving the Fat Lady a run for her money in glass-breaking with the Professor's shouts. It was a very good thing the classroom was in the dungeon, because there would no longer be glass in the windows at the end of the class otherwise.

Harry smirked again as the Professor shouted and stalked behind his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose as he scribbled a hasty zero next to Harry's name.

Hermione looked on in frightened disbelief as Ron leaned in. "It was only supposed to be for the house points, mate. Are you mental?"

Harry marched out of the room with a grin on his face and a zero for the day. "Guess we found out what you're not allowed to say to Snape in his classroom," he muttered to himself, unable to stop smiling mischievously.

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**Yay! I really liked this one actually haha**

**Review please! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's another one. I forgot to say this for the last two, so here goes: I don't own Harry Potter.**

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_Rule 17. Seamus Finnegan is not "after me Lucky Charms."_

The sixth-year watched excitedly as his snowy owl, Hedwig, flew into the Great Hall at breakfast, bearing with her a short, thin parcel. The owl swooped over the Gryffindor table, dropping the brown package above Harry's general location. It landed half in the pile of hotcakes and half in the pitcher of pumpkin juice. The juice tipped over, splashing everywhere and splattering the young Gryffindors with orange liquid.

"Blimey, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, jumping backward in shock and almost falling off the bench. "Can't you control that bird? I told you rats were better!"

Harry gave the ginger a sharp look as he grabbed his napkin and tried to sponge the sticky juice off his robes. "Not your rat," he muttered, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"What's in the package anyway?" he asked, picking up the wet parcel with as few fingers as possible.

"I'll tell you in the dorm room," Harry whispered, sneaking a glance down the table where Seamus Finnegan was in an intense conversation with Dean Thomas about the best ways to blow objects up and act like it was unintentional. He looked back at Ron, who had followed his gaze. "Let's go."

Harry mopped up the leftover pumpkin juice on the parcel with his napkin, then slipped it under his robes and stood up, walking out of the Great Hall with Ron on his tail. They ran up the magical stairs and through the portrait hole. They slowed down through the common room so as not to attract curious attention from the students in the room. _Unnecessary attention,_ Harry thought quietly.

Once in the dorm room, Harry wiped off the light sheen of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead during their slight running escapade. He sat unceremoniously on the bed, calming his slightly ragged breathing.

"Alright, mate," Ron whispered, looking intently at the package on Harry's lap. "What's so important that you couldn't speak of it in the Great Hall? Is it something dark? Something that'll help you defeat You-Know-Who? Did Dumbledore send you something? Is it one of those whats-its—Horcruxes? Is it—"

Harry cut him off. "Ron." The ginger closed his mouth. "No. It's got nothing to do with Voldemort." Ron winced, his usual reaction to the Dark Wizard's name.

Harry pulled the package into his hands, carefully pulling on the twine ties and tearing apart the brown paper. He triumphantly held up a box. The image on the front depicted some kind of food in a bowl, along with a small cartoon man dressed in all green with a shamrock on his hat.

"Is that… Don't tell me those are ingredients for a potion. What are you planning to make this time, Harry?" Ron demanded, confused.

Harry almost laughed. "Ron. It's cereal! A Muggle breakfast food!"

Ron looked confused. "Oh." He looked closer at the box. "Dad tried to get us to eat something similar to that for breakfast once. Ginny had a fit," he laughed, his blue eyes lost in the memory. "That was the last time Dad tried to bring home anything Muggle for breakfast." Ron looked back at the box. "What's that called? Lucky Charms? Why couldn't you just open the box in the Great Hall."

"Seamus," Harry answered, unashamed. "He's Irish, so you never know. I secretly suspect he'll be 'after me Lucky Charms.'" The last bit came out in an impressively accurate imitation of the other boy's accent.

"Come on, Harry. I doubt Seamus would go after something that's yours," Ron scoffed, laughing at Harry's impression of the sandy-haired boy. "Even if he is Irish. He's your friend. He even joined Dumbledore's Army with us."

Harry shot him a suspicious look. "I know. But he's Irish. He's 'after me Lucky Charms.'"

From that moment on, Harry was extraordinarily careful around one Seamus Finnegan. The Lucky Charms, when they weren't carefully locked away in his trunk, were carried around under his robes or in his schoolbag. He was uncharacteristically suspicious, and was beginning to get weird looks for it. People had begun to almost _avoid_ him.

"Harry. Seriously," Hermione hissed halfway through Transfiguration one afternoon. "Grow up."

For once, Ron agreed with her. "Seriously, mate. It's ridiculous. He's not after your bloody cereal."

And then, of course, it had come to Seamus's attention that Harry was ignoring him. And a week later, after Charms, the Irish boy confronted Harry himself.

"What's going on, Harry? Why are you acting like this?" Seamus demanded, his hand on his wand.

"No, mate, it's nothing." Nonchalant. Unconvincing.

Seamus looked back at him suspiciously. "That's bloody wonderful," Seamus laughed, his tone harsh and sarcastic. "Tell me the truth. Honestly now. You won't even be in the dorm room with me if I'm awake, but you won't let me out of your sight. What are you hiding? I'm on your team, mate. We were in Dumbledore's Army together. We're fighting on the same team."

Harry searched the boy's eyes before relenting. "Fine, I… I guess you have a right to know." He unbuttoned his cloak slowly, revealing a red box that was being held fast under his arm. "This," Harry muttered, holding out the box of Lucky Charms.

"And you're hiding your cereal from me _why?_" Seamus seemed about to laugh.

"Aren't you 'after me Lucky Charms'?" Harry asked, ready to snatch the box back at a moment's notice.

Seamus guffawed loudly. "You can have your Lucky Charms, mate! I'm not going to take your food, even if I am Irish," he exclaimed, pounding a fist on Harry's back. "Your imitation of my accent was brilliant, though!" Seamus was smiling brightly now.

"You're not 'after me Lucky Charms'?" Distrustful.

"Of course not. Eat your cereal, you daft numpty!"

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**Review please! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Eh.**

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_Rule 179. A hug is not all Snape needs_

Harry Potter left the Potions classroom, his thoughts unusually subdued. He had received quite a tongue-lashing from the snarky Potions Master during class, and to say the least, he was by no means happy about it. His brooding mood continued until dinner, when Ron poked him roughly in the ribs.

"Come out of it, mate," Ron managed, his mouth full of chicken. "He's a right git to say things like that."

"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione cut in. "You shouldn't let him get to you. The things he says aren't true. And besides, he was in a really foul mood already, didn't you notice?"

"No," Harry answered sullenly, staring at his untouched dinner. He suddenly brightened, his green eyes sparkling as he made an effort to keep from laughing at the absurd thought that had suddenly wormed its way into his head. "Maybe – maybe all he needs is a hug!"

Hermione looked at him as if he were insane. "Harry, I really don't think that's a good idea."

"No, you said it yourself, 'Mione! 'He was in a really foul mood.' All anyone ever needs is a hug!"

Harry ran back up to Gryffindor tower, ignoring the looks his two best friends exchanged at the table. He sprinted up to the dorm room and sat on the bed. He would make this as un-embarrassing as possible, in the view of as few people as he could. How? Where? When?

It was over an hour later when Harry crept back downstairs. The common room was full of students chattering excitedly, but Harry ignored them, only pausing slightly when Ron and Hermione appeared on either side of him.

"You can't do this, mate," Ron pleaded. "He'll kill you. The greasy git's a Death Eater! Who's to say he won't turn you over to You-Know-Who the second he gets you alone?"

"Dumbledore trusts him, Ron," Hermione answered, coming to the defense of their teacher. "Besides, you shouldn't say this like that about your teachers." She turned back to Harry. "Harry, this is a stupid idea."

"Leave me alone," Harry bit out, angry. "If you're not coming with me, stay behind."

"Fine, mate. We'll follow under the Cloak." Harry tossed Ron the Invisibility Cloak in response. As an afterthought, the redhead added, "Try not to take him by surprise."

They crept down the corridors, keeping an eye out for the Dungeon Bat.

"There," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear, and he looked ahead. Sure enough, the man was stalking down the corridors, his obsidian eyes looking for students, his robes billowing ominously behind him.

"Potter. What are you doing?" Snape looked around. "Without your idiotic friends, might I add."

Ron tensed under the Cloak, but Hermione grabbed onto him in an attempt to calm him down.

"Just wandering, Professor. I was thinking, though –"

"Quite surprising, I assure you."

Harry glared lightly. "_I was thinking_ about class today, and I wanted to tell you that I don't care what you said to me. You were angry, and I know exactly what you need."

Snape eyed him warily as he replied, "And what is that, Potter?"

Harry jumped forward, wrapping his arms around the lean Potions Master. "A hug!"

"What the bloody –" Snape yelped as he stiffened and tried to twist out of the teenager's grip. "GET OFF ME, POTTER!"

The boy stumbled back in surprise, tripping over the man's cloak and falling to the ground. Snape leaned in until their noses were nearly touching.

"A _hug_ ," he spat, "is not all that I need, Potter. Twenty points from Gryffindor for assault of a teacher."

"But sir! It wasn't assault! It was a hug!" Harry protested.

"It was assault, Potter." Snape straightened, and turned to leave. He stalked down the corridor in the direction he had come.

Ron and Hermione tugged off the Cloak, looking at him carefully.

"Would it be appropriate to say I told you so?" Ron began tentatively, watching Harry's face.

"It's alright," Harry said cheerfully. "Maybe he needs two hugs!"


End file.
